This film should have been called "Disco Dracula." It's a reminder of how bad music was in the early '80s, not to mention of how small a role logic and common sense played during the period.
Charley Brewster (William Ragsdale) ignores his willing girlfriend, Amy (Amanda Bearse), when he spots some people moving a coffin into his neighbor's house. Charley's sudden distraction by a potential blood-sucker points to a possible metaphor for men's distaste with "female issues." It's also entirely possible he just found Chris Sarandon a better scoring opportunity, given the amount of femininity he exudes compared to Bearse.
Anyway, his first contact with Jerry Dandridge (Sarandon) comes when he brings a cop to Jerry's house and the cop tells Dandridge that Charley suspects he's been slaughtering people -- a real tribute to law enforcement in the Reagan era. To help him defeat the polyester-clad Dandridge, Charley enlists the help of an ex-horror star, Peter Vincent (Roddy McDowell). He does so by walking right up to him on the lot of a television studio. How'd he get in? Where was security? Who knows? Who cares?
Dandridge is interested in Amy, and why Charley didn't just say "thank God" and go about his own business is anybody's guess. One also has to wonder why Vincent's cross works on Charley's compromised friend, Evil, but not on Dandridge, and how exactly a small pistol produces enough smoke to close down a Kiss concert. Of course, these are questions that horror films just couldn't care less about.
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